Taking Care of Business
by TowardWhatEnd
Summary: George and Hermione enter into a business relationship- but business was never this pleasurable! Rated for eventualy GWHG relationship.
1. At the Burrow

Disclaimer, Author Notes, etc.: I do not own any of the characters in this story, J.K. Rowling, supreme fiction goddess, does. All hail Rowling! Archimedes is from the Disney movie the Sword in the Stone.

Molly Weasley, exhausted mother of seven (and sometimes, with Arthur's muggle-fascination, she felt like the mother of eight), sat down in her favorite rocking chair at the Burrow and fretted. Molly Weasley is famous for fretting and worrying. Nobody does it better than Molly. But with all that had happened in her years, whom could possibly think to blame _blameless_ Molly Weasley?

The reason Mrs. Weasley was worrying today, in the Burrow, in her favorite rocking chair, was that while her own children that had not yet moved on with their lives and found separate, extra-Burrow existences were playing happily throughout the house and grounds, the one child that she had almost always regarded as her own was, by order of Supreme Mug_chump_ Albus Dumbledore, spending yet another unbearable and torturous summer residing at Privet Drive. My, my. Isn't that a long way of putting it? Indeed, Harry Potter was spending the summer before his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at the one place he despised most in the world. Other than, of course, the lair of Tom Riddle's sick and twisted alter-ego, Lord Voldemort. 

So with a glance at her Quidditch-happy younglings, she sighed. Life goes on, she found it necessary to remind herself. But for some people life goes on in an unfair way. Oh, how she wished that she could apparate to the Dursley's and snatch Harry Potter into her arms. But that would be playing on Harry's deepest desire: to find a home other than Privet Drive where he could be safe. 

Molly alternately cursed and praised the late Sirius Black in her head. What a brave man, she thought. And what a pompous idiot. Why couldn't he just stay home? Oh but who could stay home when the most important person to the war against Voldemort was in dire trouble? It was the same when she thought of what to do regarding Voldemort; half of her wanted to scream, "Get the bastard, take him down, go on the offensive." And the other half of her was moaning in a corner, those visions of her loved ones dead constantly running through her head, not wanting to put any of her babies- whether she had given birth to them or not- into danger.

But in the end, Molly Weasley did as she always did: she waited, until the end of the summer when Harry would join them, along with Hermione, at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, and they would once again dance around the painful reminders that Sirius was gone. That month might be the hardest. And it was coming faster than she knew- within the next couple of weeks, in fact. The children would try their hardest to find out what was going on, and when Harry eventually was informed, to her chagrin, everybody else would also find out. 

With a loud popping noise, she was shaken from her worrisome reveries. 

" 'Allo, mum!" It was the voices of her tall and meddlesome middle children, Fred and George. Having apparated inside from, she was sure, a distant makeshift Quidditch pitch, the two infamous Hogwarts pranksters and 'dropouts' were slightly muddy, and completely covered in sweat. Not that it mattered that they had taken off from school. If she and Arthur had had to deal with that obnoxious, venomous Umbridge woman…well, Arthur might have left as well. Besides, once Dumbledore was reinstated that summer, he had declared Fred and George as having fully completed the curriculum. They happily had taken their NEWTS at the request of Albus. _Anything for you, Headmaster_. Despite their silliness and refusal to settle down, they had an immense amount of respect for the elderly headmaster. 

"Fred, George, you're positively filthy!" If anything covered up for (or revealed) her worries more, it was the length to which she went to nag her sons and daughter. The twins' response to this comment was to look each other up and down and pull the wands out of their dragon-hide coats, which were hanging upon the coat rack. With a simple swish-and-flick, the dirt had disappeared. They had left the sweat upon their bodies as a mark of a Quidditch match well-played. 

"All right, then, Missus W?" the twins smiled at their mother, who sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Take a bath, both of you. And where are your younger siblings?" Molly was in full-swing that day. Nothing could distract her, not even her twins' smooth-talking antics. 

"Oh, you know they can't apparate yet, Mum," George offered, rolling his eyes. Or was it Fred? No, it was George. Mrs. Weasley always got it right, despite the twins' best efforts to confuse her. Nobody ever knew why, but they all supposed that it had something to do with the fact that George and Fred had been in her womb for nine months that made her such an expert. "They're probably going to be here in…five, four…three…two…"

And just as George was about to get to the count of one, Ron and Ginny burst through the split door to the Weasley abode, Ginny looking positively flush and about to wither onto the floor. Ron, looking equally as put-out, bent over to catch his breath, pointing an accusing finger at both the twins as he did so.

"You…no fair…apparating…and…you…cheated…I saw…your wands…" Ron clearly cared less about the fact that his brothers had allegedly cheated than the fact that he could not breath. He and Ginny collapsed, back-to-back, onto the floor of the living room. "Chocolate. Need choco-"

"Water…water!" Ginny finally managed, cutting her brother off. At this point, neither the twins nor Molly could figure out if the youngest of the Weasley kin were being honest or simply taking the piss out of their dear mother and brothers. Ginny raised a hand, which grasped her wand feebly, and said with her remaining strength, "Accio water!"

A delirious chuckle from Ron was emitted, reminding Ginny suddenly of his ordeal within the Department of Mysteries with a strange looking brain. As the water glass flew into her outstretched hand, she dropped her wand and held the glass as if it were some sort of holy relic. She then drank, savoring it as if it were the last butterbeer in Hogsmeade.

"All in a day's training, I suppose," Fred piped up, shoving a chocolate frog into Ron's mouth, which squirmed and croaked before Ron, with his eyes wide and happy, bit down relentlessly into his brother's offer. All was forgiven.

"Yeah, we have to make sure that these two are decent players. And who better to whip them into shape, than the best beaters that Hogwarts ever saw?" George folded his arms while he said this, but there was no time for a response. At that very moment, a feathery snitch zoomed into the room, accosting George with its left…wing? It unrolled itself in George's hands, which were now occupied with trying not to drop it, and shook its leg happily, indicating a large number of scrolls attached to its foot. When George had wrested the scrolls from the owl's foot, it flapped down to the youngest Weasley and perched itself upon the arm which held her water glass.

"Oh, Pig, there you are…aughhh…Pig! That was disgusting!" Ginny squealed as Pigwidgeon coughed a pellet into her water glass. He hooted merrily, unaware of his folly, and nestled into her armpit, trilling all of his owl-love for the young girl. "Oh I guess it's all right. I was almost done with it anyway."

"I wondered when I was going to see him again," Fred mused. "He's the honorary mascot for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes."

"He acts like it too! Did you see the way he shot in here?" George added, handing his mother the scrolls that had been attached to Pig's leg. "I left him in the shop yesterday. He must have been given mail…"

"Oh…oh…hmmm…my my…well _ that's _a first…" Mrs. Weasley was muttering under her breath at the first letter. She looked at Ginny and Ron with authority, as if she had known the news all the while. "Children it seems that Diagon Alley will be closed for awhile prior to the beginning of the term to install security alarms. So that means that we have to get your school supplies early this year. Within the next couple of weeks, in fact. Which means we'll have to get Harry and go to Headquarters early as well. My, my, will they be busy this year…"

George and Fred muttered something about being glad that they didn't have to buy more textbooks and robes and what have you. 

"But," Mrs. Weasley went on, pointing at the next two letters, which were obviously Ron and Ginny's letters from Hogwarts. "I know I've already bought these editions for Fred and George, so providing they haven't ruined or burned their books in a post-Hogwarts celebration, I assume that we could save some money by not having to purchase more copies? Eh?" 

George and Fred nodded, and Ginny and Ron sighed. For once in their lives, Ron and Ginny wished to get something brand-spanking-new. Right off the shelves, the gilded edges still gilded, and the bindings ready to be cracked. Of course, knowing Fred and George, the bindings might still be ready to be cracked on those textbooks. 

"Of course we saved our books, mum. We couldn't possibly get rid of them when we knew, you know, that they'd be needed wherever they could be gotten," Fred offered. She surveyed the letters once again as George looked over her shoulder. They looked at each other, nodded once strongly, and looked back at Ron. Molly was, for some reason, beaming at her youngest son despite the obvious news she had to deliver.

"Of course, there is one book we'll still have to get you, Ron, since you've decided on what NEWT level class you're taking and one of them wasn't in either Fred or George's schedule at all," Molly Weasley said, making Ron feel enormously guilty for being the one that they had to spend money on. "And then we'll go buy more ink and parchment. Oh and Ron, you're prefect again, darling. I'm so proud of you."

The twins made a coughing sound, which sounded terribly, like "Raise some hell," before continuing to take the piss out of their littlest brother.

"Another owl?" Ginny mused, as the family members turned their attention to a large, brown barn owl, gracefully gliding down from the sky and through the doorway onto George's shoulder. It was behaved, with every bit of decorum that should be inherent in a classy owl. Two guesses as to who might have sent it.

"Oh, eh? Were you looking for me? Two letters, you say?" George pretended to be speaking with the owl. "Well I'd be much obliged, oh no. I insist, I insist, you first, my good sir. You don't say. Curious!"

The owl became somewhat put off, looking at George as if he'd been experimenting with too many Wheezes again. The owl, who wore a necklace signifying that its name was Archimedes and it was a male owl, dropped two letters, one into George's hand, and the other into Mrs. Weasley's. Molly gave the bird a very impressed expression, and opened the letter in her hand. And smiled broadly.

"Well it looks as though Hermione has heard from the Daily Prophet about the situation in Diagon Alley…she says she is not surprised at all, considering the return of You-Know-Who…oh and she says to owl her back with Archimedes to tell her when we'll be going to Diagon Alley so that she might meet us there. And she also wants to know if Ron is still a Gryffindor prefect, well of course you are darling, why shouldn't you be?" Mrs. Weasley rapidly read the letter and then handed it to Ron and Ginny to muse over, as it had post-scripts addressed strictly to them.

In the meantime, George had placed Archimedes upon Fred's shoulder and snuck away. Miraculously, without being noticed. He closed the door to his bedroom, and leaned against the frame of the door. He opened the letter and pulled out a small card. Reading it, his heart was set a flutter, something that he had rarely ever felt before, and he felt his entire body blush. His toes even curled.

_ George,_

_ I would be happy to help you and Fred in bookkeeping for 3W. Please write back with Archimedes, or Pigwidgeon, to let me know of a time when we can meet to discuss the particulars. Perhaps when we are all in Diagon Alley to purchase school things? I do hope you'll grace us with your presence._

_ Much Love,_

Hermione 

Much love. _That_, whether she meant it or not, was the part that made his toes curl.

(a.n.- all right, that's the first chapter! Please r/r.)


	2. Love Actually

                        Author's Disclaimer: Again, I have no ownership of anything Harry Potter. Archimedes technically is inspired by Disney, and 10 points to Gryffindor if someone can tell me what film I'm referencing in here!

            Also, to my loving reviewers: Thank you all so much, Kneazle will find out why George and Hermione fancy each other. And don't worry Singtoangels1, they noticed. I'll work on the switching viewpoints.

            Chapter 2

Hermione watched Archimedes fly toward the Burrow and took a moment to reflect upon the letter she had just sent. While she certainly couldn't support the actions of the twins while they were in school, they would need someone with a proper business mind to help them from completely falling apart at the seams. Although she wondered to herself constantly, what inspired the twins to ask her to do it? She, who was always thwarting their plans at the last second, and stealing their thunder?

She pushed aside her self-doubt and figured that they had finally come to their senses in one way or another about their goals in life. 

Afterall, wasn't it true from seeing Arthur Weasley and Albus Dumbledore operate, that behind every great man, there (indeed) had to be _a great woman_? 

Hermione sighed, and thought intently on the next subject; George. With her tongue swishing at her upper gum as if to catch a bit of food that had lodged itself there, she considered why she had signed her letter 'much love'. Did she have love for him in the sisterly way that she felt toward Harry, Ginny and Ron? Or was it a different kind intimacy? 

There is a small anecdote that must be told, in order to understand the feelings that passed between Hermione Granger and George Weasley. It happened while the two had been alone at the Order headquarters the previous summer, cleaning out doxy-infested linens at the insistence of Molly Weasley. No other people but George and Hermione knew. Of course, the middle Weasley child and the Gryffindor brainchild didn't have to worry about anyone finding out. Nobody really paid attention to any amorous feelings developing, not when there was Voldemort to stop, or Harry to protect, or Kreacher to keep in line. Kreacher had in fact lost his head like many of his line before him, merely because of his failure of duty in serving the Black household. Hermione protested, but Phineas Nigellus insisted. But this story is not about the final days of Kreacher the irritating house-elf. This is about what began the unrequited feelings of passion to move between Hermione and her best friend's brother.

It was a Tuesday. Or was it a Wednesday? It isn't really important. The point is that Hermione was shouting _'Immobulus!' _while George was getting spray-happy with a bottle of doxycide. And it so happened that doxies are, to some degree, intelligent and cunning, if not downright rude and irritating. They had organized some sort of doxy-invasion whilst George and Hermione's backs were turned (to place a few more unconscious doxies into the bucket- George pocketed one). They saw Hermione obviously as a main threat since she was the initial attacker. The remaining doxies came out in pairs to overwhelm the duo until one of them finally got a chance to bite. That little bitch just hung on for dear life and gnawed at Hermione's hand, while gazing up at her with crazed little doxy eyes. 

George took this as a declaration of war, and began spraying until all of the doxies had landed in a willy-nilly pile on the floor, before attending to Hermione. It took a matter of seconds. Hermione's hand was red, swollen, and the bite marks were deep with twig-sized holes. Around the marks was the white, foamy poison. 

"Ooh, that smarts," Hermione cried, as she breathed shallowly. Her lungs were closing up even faster than she anticipated. "George, quick, the antidote, before I go into anaphylactic shock!"

"Anaprophylactic whatsit?" George said, blinking in disbelief that she could maintain her ability as a human encyclopedia even when she was wounded and might even experience heart failure. Hermione grabbed the antidote from his hand and administered itself to her, her breathing slowly returning to normal, her lungs opening.

"It's part of an allergic reaction. You become severely ill because of something's poison, and it…ooh, oh that's much better," Hermione felt a rush of endorphins as her vision became slightly cloudy. Then, almost as suddenly as it had happened, her sight returned to normal and she felt as though nothing had ever happened.

George felt terribly anxious, though. He grabbed hold of Hermione protectively, and to Hermione's great surprise, began to tear up quickly. The sound of George's muffled sobs as he laid his face into her shoulder startled her.

"George, are you all right?" she queried, her torn and reddish hand slowly beginning to heal as she placed it upon his tear-flooded cheek. 

"Oh, 'Mione, it's awful! Everything's so serious and so many things could go wrong, and…what if I hadn't been here to stop them? They could have killed you, and they're only little doxies. How can I protect any of my family and friends from V…V….V….olde…m-m-m-mort when one little thing could ruin everything?" he sobbed. Obviously nobody had ever seen this side of George Weasley before.

Comforting him as best she could with her hand on his cheek, she shushed him and spoke softly.

"It'll be fine, George. We'll all be fine. You're a wonderful wizard. You'll be just as great a fighter as any of us."

"It's not that. What if I'm not around when you get attacked? Or Ron, or Harry? Or anybody else? Just because I'm one of the two greatest beaters Hogwarts has ever seen doesn't mean I'll always be there."

"So this is about…me?"

George blushed. He hadn't realized he'd mentioned her first. But even within the split second that she dared to cut right to the chase, he knew. 

"This is about all of us, Hermione. But…yes…it's about you."

"Oh…George…"

That was when they kissed. It was small, but it was the start of something that was confusing and thrilling, exhilarating and frustrating.

Now, sometimes love happens because of some reason that you can pinpoint. Some definite reason that makes you say "He's the one". But in the case of these two young lovebirds, it was the war that pulled them together, and it was a mutual understanding of each other's strengths and weaknesses and common ground that kept them there. Hermione couldn't say at first that she loved George more than Ron, Harry, Ginny, or anybody else she knew. But sometimes you give a person a look or say the right thing at the right time and then you know, that there's something you share that is unspoken and somehow goes beyond your normal, everyday relationships. Something deeper. Love is funny that way.

They continued this way throughout the school year. Not even someone who was right there can really describe it. That's what unspoken connections are all about. And when the twins left school, Hermione was the only one who knew they were planning on leaving. She didn't stop them, though. Who stands in the way of two beaters on brooms? Especially when one of them is the love of your life?

Hermione turned back to a large, leather-bound compendium of potions that she was reading for personal enjoyment, and counted the days softly to herself until she would be able to kiss George again.

                                    *                       *                        *

Meanwhile, back at the Burrow, Fred had his hands palm-down against the door, trying to force it open, while his twin forced from the other side.

"Oi, I know you got a letter from Hermione!" Fred teased. "It's no use, I know everything. Now let me read it!"

George only wanted one part of his life to be separate from his twin's, ever. And that was his love life. Sometimes, having so many brothers and sisters can be a pain. Not enough money to go around, long lines for the bathroom, and worst of all you had to share every aspect of your private life in open air. 

"It's nothing, all it says is that she'll help us with running the shop, now go away and let me write her back!" George yelled. A little too loudly. His youngest siblings appeared from the stairs to help Fred push. No Weasley would ever be alone, whether they wanted their privacy or not.

"What's this all about?" Ginny whispered to Fred.

"Who's he writing back to?" Ron asked as he pushed with all of his might against the door, before realizing that it would be wonderful to get an answer before pushing with any effort. He was still winded from running back from the Quidditch match, after all.

"His secret lover," Fred teased.

"But…the only one who's written is…OI! GEORGE! 'MIONE'S MY FRIEND, STAY AWAY FROM HER!" Ron began to push against the door again. His latent jealousy toward any male who moved in on the girl he had begun to feel for since sometime during their fourth year (at _least_) kicked into high gear.

"Too late, he's already been mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah with 'Mione," Fred chuckled loudly, making kiss noises, which only irritated Ron more.

"Oh, George, I think that's so sweet, do you really fancy Hermione? I bet she fancies you, too," Ginny cooed romantically as she stopped pushing and leaned against the wall, her heart fluttering. Romance was a thing that was truly close to Ginny Weasley's heart. Little did Ginny know!

"I'm going to kill you George, just open up the door and let me in!" Ron threatened. And with that, the door opened. Ron was quite impressed with himself, before he fell to the ground and felt George's foot on the middle of his spine.

"You stay down there and hear what I have to say. Don't get up until you cool down, or I will turn you into an owl and let Pig play with you," George managed to sputter out. 

It was quite clear from the tone of his voice that George was serious. For one of the few times in his life, George Weasley was not joking around.

As George began to tell his story of how he felt for Hermione, Fred rolled his eyes (having heard it all before), Ron looked like he was partway between murdering his brother and vomiting on him, and Ginny held her chin in her hand and sighed at the most romantic parts.

"…she even played a joke on me once, giving me a love potion and then asking me to watch Crookshanks for her. Needless to say he was the first thing I saw after taking what I thought was an energy drink," George added, as if to give validation and emphasis to something that he never needed to prove to anyone.

                                     *             *             *

                                        FLASHBACK

"…oh…you are so beeeeautiful…your eyes…your _whiskers_! I have to KISS you!" George's eyes had been glazed over and he was looking at the half-Kneazle longingly. He went toward Crookshanks, and the cat swiped a paw at him before running away, the most terrified it had ever been.

                                    *              *             *

When it was all said and done, Ron got up off the floor and left in a huff, mumbling about the indecency of his own family, swearing to get revenge. George turned his face to a helpless Fred and a hopeful- looking Ginny. 

"He'll come around, I'm sure. He's been trying to sort out how he feels about her for ages, and he just can't stand that someone else is there before him," Ginny offered quietly.

"It'll be a few…months, maybe. But sooner or later he'll be cool with it. You know?" Fred nodded as he was saying this, agreeing with Ginny and knowing that even a redhead's temper subsided at some point.

George smiled in thanks to his siblings and turned to them one last time.

"Try not to make too big a deal of it, though, ok? I don't want Hermione getting all crabby because she wasn't the one to tell Ron," George said, with a meaningful look at Fred, who nodded, and immediately set out with Ginny to do damage control.

George sat down in the small shoebox-sized room that he shared with his twin, and looked up at Archimedes, who had flown into the room unnoticed during the fray and was now patiently waiting for George's response. Archimedes wore an expression of amusement, if owls could have such a thing, as if he knew all about the situation and took delight in having a good owl-laugh.

George produced a piece of paper and a quill and wrote out a response in his chicken scratch.

_Dear Hermione,_

_That would be excellent. Of course Fred and I will be joining you all in Diagon Alley. However, don't be surprised if you get the silent treatment from Ron, or worse; Fred accidentally let it fly that we've been seeing each other. I tried to get him to shut up but Ron and Ginny overheard. I'm trying to make things go as smoothly as possible…but nobody takes me seriously enough around here…(wonder why!). I do hope you're not mad with me, dear, as I never intended to let anyone know without you with me to give the whole story. Please don't be mad. PLEASE!_

_Love forever,_

_ George_

There. He had written it. After tying the letter to Archimedes' foot, he opened the window to let him fly back to Hermione. As he watched the barn owl fly, he wished he could have sent himself as well, but there was work to do, and Molly was probably worried about all the screaming going on in her house. Seeing as it wasn't her doing the screaming, after all.


	3. It's Never A Loose End

  
Taking Care of Business  
Ch. 3- Here Again There Again  
Disclaimer: Only the plot really belongs to me. Everything else is Rowling Rowling Rowling.  
Authors Note: I am so sorry for not updating in about two or so months. The truth is it's my last semester at college, and a LOT of things are going on. But soon I'll be a university graduate!   
Hermione awoke with a start of nervous energy on the morning that she was to meet the Weasleys and Harry in Diagon Alley for their new school supplies. One part of her couldn't wait to see George. And another part of her, was dreading the moment that she would have to face Ron. Would he give her the silent treatment as he had for the past week and a half? Or would he throw caution to the wind and ream her out in front of hundreds of other wizards and witches, many of them Hogwarts classmates?  
Part of Hermione was astounded that Ron would have such a terribly adverse reaction to her having found someone that, oddly, she could identify with. Especially since it was troublemaker George Weasley. She knew that Ron must have strong feelings for her, and that to see her dating his brother of all people must be extremely hard...but, Hermione also reasoned, it was also a large part his fault that he had not attempted to express his feelings in some sort of way. She was Hermione Granger, top in her class and Gryffindor prefect. And a woman like that waits for no one. She wouldn't wait for Ron to get a hold of himself just because he was her best friend. And in being her best friend, she suspected that doing anything intimate with him would result in much use of her gag reflex, because it had come to her attention that being that much of a friend to someone and their family made them almost brotherly in a sense. George, for some reason, was not blessed with this unfortunate sense of family that Ron was. Perhaps it was because Ron had treated her as a sister for so long. George had never done such a thing- to him, she was always either a meddling prefect, or----  
A goddess. That's what Hermione Granger is, George thought to himself as he laid in bed on the morning that they were to descend upon Diagon Alley. Her wild hair, her knowledge that knew no bounds, her passion for life; George Weasley had decided that she was a goddess, and if not that, then an Amazon, with the power to strike any man senseless. He contemplated her beauty for a moment, imagining that she was standing before him, her graceful body on display for only him, while she extolled the many properties of DRAGON'S BLOOD???  
"Oy... Fred. Shuttup," he said, tossing a limp and pathetic-looking old pillow at his twin, who was again talking about potions in his sleep. If Fred Weasley had not been a goofball, he may have been a potions master. Fred twitched and yelled in his sleep about being attacked by something.  
"Boys! Ginny! Time to get up and go to London!" Molly called up the stairs to the children's rooms. Groaning, George hesitantly left his reveries as Fred woke with a start.  
"Mrs. Norris, no!" Fred called out, his heart pounding. Fred Weasley was plagued by visions of a demon cat attacking him. He took a minute to realize where he was, and sighing, muttered to himself. "It was so real..."  
In another bedroom of the Weasley household, Ron was just waking up. He truly didn't want to go to Diagon Alley. He didn't want to anticipate that another school year would start in about a month and he didn't want to face Hermione, who would probably be all over George, leaving him all alone. Ron had thought that maybe, maybe Hermione might have known by now how much he cared. He simply couldn't force himself to wake up when everybody but him seemed to be on the verge of pairing off into couples. What would happen to Ron, if he weren't with Hermione? Harry had a whole fanclub, including Colin Creevey, who had begun to put his photography skills to good use by selling snapshots of Harry playing Quidditch and smiling in his Gryffindor robes to every other girl.  
Ron shook his head free of jealous thoughts about his friends. He tried his hardest to swallow his pride, and his pain, and wish Hermione and George the best of luck. But the more he thought about it the more he realized that it wasn't only his feelings for Hermione that caused him pain. It was Ron Weasley's overwhelming fear of being the one who got left behind.   
Back in London, Hermione Granger was organizing her things, preparing to make her trip to Diagon Alley. She glanced around the room, suddenly distressed. Tears began to flow into her eyes and down her cheeks as she bit her lip to try and maintain her composure.  
This is how Theodora Granger found her daughter when she went to collect her.  
"Hermione, sweetheart, what's wrong? Did you get bad news?" her voice was soft and gentle, just like every other part of her demeanor. She honestly didn't know where her daughter had become such a workaholic, but she was proud. From the day she found out that her daughter was a witch, she knew that Hermione would do great things.  
"Oh...mum, there's so much I want to bring with me, and I can't pack it all," Hermione began to sob. If Ron's greatest fear was being left behind, Hermione's greatest fear was that she would be the one to leave something behind, to have to choose between all the things she loved. Theodora held her daughter closely and soothed her, hushing her as she always had.  
"Sweetheart, you know you never have to worry about leaving anything behind. I promise it will all be here when you get back. And we'll always be here for you as well, your dad and I." Theodora had gotten used to her daughter's separation anxiety, and as an only child it was Hermione's right to feel homesick. "You know, you have another week after you go to get your school supplies before having to, uhm...officially leave to go to...um..."  
Hermione sniffed and nodded, knowing that her mother was afraid to say that she would be going to Order headquarters, despite the fact that it was most likely safe in their house. Headmaster Dumbledore had made sure that her house was especially charmed and protected, and like Harry, as long as she called a place home in some way, she would never truly be unsafe there.  
"Oh...a girl moment. Well, I'll just be going then." Hermione and Theodora looked up to see Hermione's father, John in the doorway. He smiled weakly at his baby girl, who was getting to be so much more than just a little girl, and poked his head out just the tiniest little bit, as if to ask if there was any room for a middle-aged dentist who wanted to hug his daughter.  
"Oh Daddy, don't be silly, where would I be without you," Hermione Jane Granger pulled her father nearer and the family shared the most recent of many, many group hugs.   
* * *  
The Weasley family arrived in Diagon Alley just as the Granger family did, although from opposite ends of the road. The Weasleys had young Harry Potter in tow with them, who looked like he was relieved to be spending time with his friends despite all the traumatic things that had happened in the past school year.  
"Look, Ron, it's Hermione!" Harry pointed as they saw the bushy- haired, cinnamon-eyed wonder rushing toward them. Ron barely got a chance to look up and see where she was coming from before Hermione plowed into both of them. Half-laughing and half-lecturing, Hermione began to babble about the books they needed.  
"Three books just for arithmancy, and wouldn't you know I've already read all of them," Hermione sighed as she finished her monologue. Harry was dumbstruck by not only how much this girl could fit inside her head, but also how much she could spew out of it. Ron glanced sadly at her and thought to himself, "That's my Hermione. Except she's not mine. Where did I go wrong?"  
  
Before entering Flourish and Blotts, they stopped at Gringott's, where Hermione was greeted with wary eyes from the suspicious goblins. This wasn't really an issue, however; the goblins are greedy, they look at everyone suspiciously. Even Dumbledore. Hermione went straight away to the exchange desk to change her pound sterling into galleons and sickles. Theodora and John looked on with subtle fascination while simultaneously deep in conversation with Arthur Weasley, who had recently been enjoying a paid vacation for all the years he had never taken holidays unless he truly had to.  
From behind Hermione a soft hand crept about her face, covering her eyes and causing her to emit a soft gasp.  
"Guess who," the voice cheerfully asked.  
Hermione of course did not have to guess as she turned around and came face-to-face with a Weasley twin, namely George. Forgetting pretense and propriety, Hermione threw her arms around her lover and kissed him softly. Two very shocked set of parents gasped, and then naturally acted as if nothing had happened.  
"Ehm...yes, and if you look over here you'll see statues of the founders of Hogwarts, ehem..." Arthur continued after a beat. Molly Weasley stood in shocked silence. Those children, she thought to herself, they might just be growing up too quickly.  
  
When Ron looked up from the selection of teas in the corner he nearly vomited. Tears stung his eyes as he became overwhelmingly aware of the truth; he didn't have her. He might never. Harry, whose senses were very keen and sympathetic toward the heartbroken that year, immediately understood his friend's desperation, and intervened.  
"Oy...um...Ron," Harry started. "Look, I...I'm really in the mood for a great big huge sundae, because I need to gain weight."  
Ron stared at his friend's ridiculous excuse, but then realized that perhaps Florean Fortescue's was the best place to escape to on this dreary morning. Especially after what he had seen. And Ron had NOT eaten breakfast, considering he would have liked to throw it all at George.  
"You know I'm pretty hungry, as well," Ron stated in quite a deadpan fashion. No emotion behind the voice. This was the Ron that hid his feelings, Harry knew this Ron. He waved him toward the door of Gringott's and assisted his friend in their liberation from a place of pain. Along the way, they met up with Susan Bones, whose desire for ice cream was just as intense as her liking for a certain Ronald Weasley... 


End file.
